


Fire with Fire

by SomethingWicked



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dark, F/M, M/M, The Alpha Pack, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 18:43:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingWicked/pseuds/SomethingWicked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you play with fire, someone burns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire with Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Hey guys, Just letting you know this is going to be a long one. I’ve been thinking about this fic idea for a while, however, finishing up college and getting around to writing it has been the challenge, and now I am getting the time. I thought of this idea pre-season 3, so it will be a little different than the story line in season 3, but hopefully it will still be entertaining. I love having feedback, good or constructive, so please feel free. I have a tumblr, and you are free to get to know my personal (sadistic) humor. Revolucianado.tumblr.com

Fire with Fire

Chapter 1: Darkest Before Dawn

Ominous. That’s the word Stiles has been mulling over for weeks since he found about the alpha packs caveat on the old Hale house’s door. What did it mean? Derek wasn’t any help when he asked, just threatened him with the usual amount of bodily harm, but not enough to deter Stiles from the symbol. No one seemed concerned about the looming threat, why could Stiles not let it go? He needed answers. He was sitting at his computer desk, with just a small desk light on and the glow of his MacBook delving into research about the symbol when he heard his window slide open, he didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was, because Scott had made this his usual entrance since he became, well, wolfy.

“Scott, I think I may have a lead on this symbol, but it’s nothing concrete, I mean after all it is the internet, and according to Wikipedia, the wet floor sign dated back to 220 BC, but I mean how are we supposed to know that’s a hoax, we weren’t around to see them in 220 BC, maybe they carved them in rocks or something..” Stiles trailed off when he heard a voice, not belonging to Scott.

“Stiles, shut up.”

Derek.

Stiles spun around in his desk chair to face the Alpha in all his broodiness. Derek never came to visit him unless he wanted something, and Stiles found it best to go along with his demands, because he finds that Derek is not a happy camper when told no, and can go from broody to moody at warp speed.

“What can I do for you, Sir Mopes a lot?” Stiles asks.

Derek huffs out an annoyed sigh, not rising to the banter. “You really should lock your window, Stiles,” Derek says whilst turning from the window as if looking to see if he was followed.

Stiles raises his eyebrow toward Derek and squints his eyes a little and cocked his head to the side in an exaggerated fashion hoping Derek will catch how redundant and ridiculous that suggestion is.

“Because locking my window will do a lot of good for mutant lizards, and hormonal wolves,” Stiles quips.

Stiles notice Derek’s shoulders tense slightly at the mention of Jackson in his time of the month, realistically, Stiles thought his lizard exterior matched his winning personality. Stiles was a lot more perceptive than people gave him credit for, he knows Derek blames himself for the kanima incident and carries the guilt of the kanima murders along with the Hale fire. Derek turns his back to Stiles and looks out the window as if still searching for something. Stiles waits for Derek to state the reason for his visit, he knows Derek likes to make a dramatic entrance, and Stiles indulges him. He studies Derek’s back, the sharp angles of his shoulder blades, the thick mountainous neck muscles, and his waist that tapers down giving his silhouette a slight triangle shape. Stiles was attracted to Derek, but then again, who wasn’t? Stiles brought himself out of the hypnosis that was Derek’s physique, and reaches over on his desk to rub copious amounts of hand sanitizer on. Stiles has developed his own set of tricks since learning of werewolves and their heightened senses. Stiles hides his attraction to Derek by putting on hand sanitizer, the alcohol masks the scent, or enough to not be suspicious.

“Something is coming, and I don’t know what.” Derek says quietly almost to himself while looking out the window at the waxing moon. Stiles assumes he means the alpha packs end game.

“Look Derek, I’ve been reading about the symbol—“ Stiles tries but Derek cuts him off by rushing him and jerking him up out of his computer chair and backing him against the wall with his hand pushing on his chest threateningly and his eyes flashing crimson,

“Stiles you are not to get involved, do you understand me? You are a liability,” Derek whispers harshly. Stiles shifts uncomfortably under Derek’s hand, Derek’s claws had extended breaking through the fabric of Stiles thin black tee shirt with the Deathly Hallows symbol on it, and broke the skin on his chest over his heart drawing a small amount of blood to the surface where each claw punctured his pale skin. Derek’s eyes revert back to the muted shade of green they usually were, and he backs up slowly.

“Stiles, I’m—I’m sorry,” he says detachedly and turns and leaves Stiles room from the window leaving Stiles to slide down the wall and sit in the soft glow of his desk lamp and computer while the shear curtains hanging from the window ripple from the muggy breeze outside.

* * *

 

Stiles wakes up the next morning a little earlier than he planned, mostly because he didn’t sleep too well. Tossing and turning and absent mindedly rubbing his chest where Derek’s claws had pierced the skin the night before when Stiles mentioned the symbol the alpha pack left on the Hale house door. Derek always threatened him, but had never physically harmed him other than the occasional shove and smashing of head into steering wheels. For the first time, Stiles was a little afraid of Derek. Stiles thought more about it and thought that Derek should actually terrify him, it’s not like the guy was winning any superlatives for best personality.

“Maybe my judgment is cloudy,” Stiles thinks to himself. Maybe he wasn’t seeing the danger because he has a fatal attraction. It wouldn’t be the first time he ignored things that were bad for him: double dosing his Adderall, lying to his father so frequently it had become second nature, even about inconsequential things, chasing lizards with daddy issues, throwing himself in the middle of supernatural fights, getting beat up by a psychotic grandfather on a power trip. Stiles decided he needed to reevaluate his life choices.

Getting out the bed Stiles walks to the shower and turns on the hot water, and stands and waits for a minute, he always like to stand in the room while it got steamy from the hot water, it relaxed him. Glancing in the mirror he actually saw the wound on his chest over his heart, five superficial dermal puncture wounds, now scabbed over, that were evenly spaced and angry with inflammation. Stiles stared at them in the mirror, losing himself in thought. He came back to reality when he realized he could no longer see himself in the mirror due to the heavy condensation, and turned and got in the shower and let the warm water flow down his back, trying not to let his Adderall riddled brain analyze and dissect Derek’s unusual behavior because Derek was an enigma wrapped in a mystery with a moody bow on top.

Stiles had to meet up with Scott today to help him get back on track with school. Scott had somewhat fell behind since he had been bitten, because apparently even werewolves have to read The Scarlett Letter and not flunk out of high school, in which Scott was dangerously close of doing. Stiles headed down the stairs fully dressed in his dark wash jeans, which were slightly sagging, despite being a skinny cut. He chose to wear a plain black tee shirt and an unbuttoned red and black flannel that he loved because it used to be his father’s when he was a teenager, it had stood the test of time. Stiles pulled on his white Puma shoes with a black stripe down the side to complete his outfit.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs he heard his Dad in the kitchen. Before Stiles had even walked into the kitchen he started addressing his father, “Padre. Papa. Daddy-o. What’s for breakfast?” Stiles says playfully. His dad was about to pick up a plate of bacon, eggs, and grits with a biscuit on the side, to take to the table and eat for himself, until Stiles intercepted and spun around his father putting the bacon in his mouth. “Damnit Stiles, I worked hard on that breakfast,” his dad says heatedly, but without any real conviction behind his words, almost as if he expected this to happen. “And I am saving your heart from having to work hard to keep you alive,” Stiles said with a mouthful of biscuit. His dad sighs defeated.

“I’ll be working a double tonight, so I won’t be home until morning bud.” He says getting his paperwork and files ready to head out the door. This caught Stiles attention, “Hey dad, is there something going on?” Stiles ask glancing and nodding his head to the stack of files in his father’s hands.  John Stilinski sighs and rubs his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger. “They found a body last night, throat was cut and they were eviscerated,” John says apprehensively. “Stiles, please don’t go out after dark, and lock the door tonight. Please.” Stiles could see the worry in his father’s eyes, which were the color of concrete. Stiles was always intrigued by his father’s eyes, the color was a pale grey shade of concrete, they almost felt cold if you were on the brunt end of them. However to the people John Stilinski loved, they could set a fire inside you and make you feel completely at home.

His dad always said that Stiles had his mother’s eyes, Stiles remembers them well. They were big and expressive, she never had to say a word to his father when his dad had a tough day, because John Stilinski could see the love in her eyes and the concern she had for him and their son, and that’s all it took for him to be reminded that there was still some beauty left in this world. Sometimes Stiles would notice his father staring at him when they spoke face to face, and Stiles knew somewhere deep down his father was thinking of his mother.

“I’ll stay in dad, I promise.” Stiles suddenly felt the crushing wave of guilt come over him, and his chest tightened. How could Stiles give Lydia a speech about death happening to everyone around her, but he ignored his own words? If something were to happen to him, his dad would be alone, and the thought of his dad spiraling back into alcoholism left Stiles hollow. He would stay in tonight. His dad gave a small smile at him and Stiles could tell he was relieved.

“Alright padre, I’m off to do academia with Scott,” Stiles says as he grabs his black North Face backpack with accents of white and heads out the door to his Jeep. Stiles drives the short distance to the McCall’s abode, he pulls into the flat paved driveway, and parks beside the familiar grey paneled home. Stiles let himself in, because after you cross the best friends for 10 years mark, knocking is a thing of the past. “Honey, I’m home,” Stiles yells, calling to Scott, or Melissa. It didn’t really matter. Stiles made his way to the kitchen to find something to eat, disregarding the fact he only ate 12 minutes ago, because metabolism. Eventually Stiles heard the thundering footsteps coming down the stairs, knowing it was Scott before he came around the corner. Scott always made the loudest footsteps coming down stairs, becoming a werewolf with all the stealth in the world, wouldn’t take that trait away from Scott. A very shirtless Scott McCall turned the corner into the kitchen while Stiles was putting a waffle into the toaster.

“Ah come on man, stop flaunting that ridiculous torso around. You’re gonna put an eye out.” Stiles said turning around to the cabinet to find the maple syrup. Scott gives a small smile and does a quick run and uses his black Nike ankle socks to slide across the hardwood to the freezer. “If you took the last waffle, you’re dead to me,” Scott says opening the freezer door. Stiles Waffle pops up done, and he quickly shoves the hot waffle into his mouth forgetting the syrup and makes a mad dash upstairs. “STILES!” Stiles hears Scott yelling from downstairs while he eats the last waffle in victory.

* * *

 

After hours of studying for their chemistry exam coming up in the following week, Stiles and Scott’s conversation drifted to a more supernatural variety. Stiles was researching the reason for brain-freeze when Scott said, “I talked to Derek this morning, and the Alpha pack attacked him on his way home last night.” Stiles immediately turned his attention toward Scott while his body tensed in a mixture of fear and worry for the alpha. “Is he ok, where is he now?” Stiles asked hurriedly. Scott gives him a confused look before answering, “He said he’s fine, he said it was more of a warning than anything and that we need to strategize to get them to leave.” Stiles relaxed slightly, but he knew the alpha pack wouldn’t leave. There would be blood shed on both sides before this was over. He could feel that familiar imminent feeling he had with his mother’s death. It crept up his skin, like a winter chill, but sank into his bones until they ached.

Stiles left the McCall household in deep thought about the rising situation. He needed to just think. Lost in a state of semi-awareness, Stiles realized where his subconscious had taken him. The Hale house. The old Hale house, the once beautiful manor, now deeply and irreversibly scarred with burns and betrayal of the past. Its outside, once a beautiful brilliant yellow, was now covered in black soot and rotting wood. The elegant slanted roof now caved in from the fire. All that remained was regret.

Stiles cautiously approached the manor as he always did, mostly due to his being creeped out by the harsh exterior of the house, but now with the added fear of Derek. He opened the front door, which was now stained with the warning of the alpha pack. Stiles raised his head to see Derek standing at the top of the rotting majestic grand staircase. Stiles swallows nervously and tries to speak, but his voice betrays him. He swallows again while looking down simultaneously at the charred floor.

“What are you doing here Stiles?” Derek asks in a gruff tone.

Stiles again raised his head to answer him, “I needed to know if you were ok,” his voice barely above a whisper. Derek’s eyes soften for a moment as he looks down at Stiles, but immediately his gaze hardens when he realizes.

“Don’t you get it, Stiles? You’re weak, a liability, and a human. You get in the way,” Derek said harshly. Stiles flinched at the words. For once not knowing what to say. His mind usually running rampant with a million different responses, now blank.

Stiles looks at the ground for a long moment. He didn’t understand the sudden change in Derek’s mood in the last day. Maybe Derek had caught on to his tricks to throw off his attraction scent?

“I don’t understand, Derek. Why are you now acting like a jerk, when you just came to my room not even 24 hours ago being cryptic and telling me about this shit.” Stiles anger was rising. Derek descended the stairs in forceful controlled steps, Stiles backed up as he approached. Stiles back was at a wall as Derek reached the last stair. He rapidly closed the space between himself and Stiles and was so close Stiles could feel Derek’s breath on his neck. Derek’s claws extended in his right hand, and Stiles shut his eyes and flinched expecting the pain, but it never came. He opened his eyes to see Derek looking at him intently, and he saw Derek slowly reach up to his black tee under his unbuttoned flannel and rip the fabric exposing the inflamed puncture wounds of the night before.

“Because I did this,” He says, turning away from Stiles and walking out of the front door, leaving Stiles alone in the hallowed out house.

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed the 1st chapter, let me know your thoughts/suggestions. I will be updating at minimum once a week.


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